


a dream is a wish that your heart makes

by donnyftchesh



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cinderella AU, Eleanor Calder & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, Endgame Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Harry Styles as Cinderella, I'm so sorry, JUST, Leeds - Freeform, M/M, Step-parents, Step-siblings, Teenagers, Verbal Abuse, idk how to categorize this, it's a, louis' so thirsty, so much angst from harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnyftchesh/pseuds/donnyftchesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry's slaving away to make others happy and louis' searching for something he doesn't have a name for, and somehow, as if by magic, they find one another.</p><p>or the one where louis wakes up with some strangers leeds bracelet on his wrist and harry wakes up missing the wristlet he got at his favorite music festival. chaos and a whiny louis tomlinson ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a dream is a wish that your heart makes

19 is old. But 20 is older. Louis would detest it and refuse to acknowledge his birthday altogether, insisting that no one buy him any presents because if they do they're "a damn traitor." That's what Louis would do. Thing is, he loves a good party, and really what's better than drinking vodka and lemonade out of red and green shot glasses, twinkling lights strung everywhere, the whole ambience screaming, "HO HO HO And A Merry Hangover!" 

So yeah 20 isn't horrible and Louis' kind of excited. Maybe even very excited but, like, don't tell anyone, okay. Especially not Liam, who had tried and, unbeknownst to him, failed to keep Louis' party a secret. What with him majoring to be an event coordinator, Niall and Louis were used to Liam planning their birthdays. They were essentially his guinea pigs, his training wheels before stepping out into the real world, but this year Liam had opted for a surprise party for his best mate; 20 was a rather large milestone, he reasoned, and thus Louis deserved a proper bash. Liam was well aware of how pouty growing up made him so he figured the fringy lad, who had knack for being the center of attention, would enjoy a room full of people screaming, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOOBEAR!" and change Louis' attitude toward the big 2-0. Against his better judgment, however, Liam told Niall in the hopes that he'd keep his lips sealed and maybe even invite some of the golf team or summat. Liam, though charming as all hell, kept to himself at uni, instead choosing to focus on his studies so he needed Niall, who always had a barrage of people following him, to increase the party turnout. Louis was top of the dog pile at school as captain of the soccer team so that would draw an immense crowd alone but Liam wanted this party to be his crowning achievement. He had a lot of faith in Niall's ability to keep a secret but like most situations involving Niall and responsibility, it didn't really work out.

Louis had known about his party for weeks, ever since a banger of a night when Niall was dared to drink straight whiskey. A full stein of the stuff. In one go. Not one to say no, Niall, the bastard, chugged to his hearts delight and only a few tears escaped as the liquor burned it's way down his throat and into his bloodstream, an incredible feat really. Niall then spent the rest of the night floating around a mildly buzzed Louis, looking at him with hazy eyes and saying, "I've got a secreeeeeet," but it really came out more like "Of gutta secreeeernrt." Li was off in the corner talking to some raven-haired somebody, clearly too enamored with the guy's slow drawl and sculpted-by-the-actual-gods jawline to intervene. 

Word of advice: don't tease Louis Tomlinson with secrets. He will get it out of you, one way or another. In this case, getting Niall to spill was a piece of cake. Or rather exactly that; Lou bribed the blonde boy with cakes and cookies and treats from Tesco's on the way home at whatever o'clock in the morning, while the lad was stumbly and vulnerable. Niall went along willingly, humming some Irish jig as he weaved in between aisles, stopping when Louis did.

"So, a secret, eh, Nialler?"

"Where're we?"

"Candyland, mate, getting you your fill of gumdrops and goodies because I'm a selfless, giving, _loving_ friend who only wants your happine-"

"Fuck ya want, Lou?"

Subtle.

"Tell me the secret, Ni."

"Oh I've gotta secret," Niall giggled a little, forgetting the oath of silence he swore to Liam.

"Yeah? Ya wanna tell me what it is?"

"Can't, promised Liam," Niall mumbled, still smiley and distant.

"I'll buy every single pastry in this place if y'just give me a small hint." Maybe it was wrong to swindle his best mate into spilling sworn beans in exchange for chocolate and sprinkles, but if it was, Louis didn't want to be right.

Niall's eyes widened, as best they could anyway under the weight of sleep deprivation and copious amounts of alcohol. Fuck a secret, Niall Horan wanted cake.

"Tuh-wuntyyy and partiiiiies and shh shh for Louiiiiiis!", he sang, blissfully unaware of his actions.

Niall suddenly lurched forward with purpose, whispering in Louis' ear, alcohol spattering his every word, "But eh it's a s'prise so don' tell Lou, okay?"

And then Niall lost it, doubled-over laughing like he'd just told the best joke in all the world.  
It took Louis a moment to understand what the Irish boys cryptic song meant but he couldn't stop grinning once he did, sending his thanks to the whiskey gods while simultaneously grabbing every confection he could get his hands on because Niall's drunken admission had earned him his weight in sugar and icing.

 

•••

 

That was a couple weeks ago and Louis' been all tight lips and innocent eyes around Liam since. Whenever someone asked what his birthday plans were, Louis would feign disappointment, saying he was probably just going to stay in and watch Grease for the umpteenth time. Liam offered up what should've been a sympathetic smile each time but it came off as more of a successful smirk as the occasion drew nearer, still thinking his surprise would actually be surprising.

 _Pompous arse,_ Louis thought, _as if anyone could sneak anything past the Tommo._

Niall didn't remember his slip up, didn't remember much of the night at all. He rolled out of bed at 2pm with a splitting headache the following afternoon, and wearily stumbled to the bathroom, muttering all the way, "Fuckin' cunts god a whole fuckin' mug m'never drinkin' again fuck it pieces of fuckin'...", before gently shutting the bathroom door behind him, carefully trying to avoid any loud noises. Louis, ever the mischievous fuck, spent the rest of the day blaring Mumford & Sons in the flat they shared with Liam, oblivious to Niall's cries of pain and threats of dismemberment. 

It's now the day before The Day and Louis can hardly contain himself. Technically he was on winter break but living with Liam had instilled in him a strong work ethic, specifically in the way of school so he'd been trying for hours to study and finish his assigned reading--and really who the fuck said it was okay to assign reading over holiday?--but he just couldn't buckle down. 

Other than his assigned reading, Louis liked his courses well enough. He'd gotten past all the 'Intro to Whatever the Fuck' classes and was now onto subjects he actually cared about. "The History of Music," "Business Management," and the like, courses he'd need to one day be a successful music producer. If he ever made it, ya know. 

Despite his interest in the subjects, Louis just could not bring himself to focus, instead doodling a crowd of stick people with a bubble above their round little heads that read, "LOU-IS LOU-IS" shouting like he hoped they would at his party.

The other boys were out, likely getting everything prepared for the party but they'd told Louis they were going to a seminar the science department was hosting and Louis could "come if he wants to but it was gonna be a drag." With a feeling of knowing in his stomach, Louis declined and began dragging books to his room instead, hoping coursework would be a productive distraction.

It wasn't. 

At this point Louis’ laying down on back, papers strewn everywhere but mostly underneath him, as he tries to balance a pencil on his nose. He'd been unsuccessful so far but Louis' nothing if not persistent. He's just about to crown himself King of Balancing Pencils on One's Nose when it hits him: what the fuck is he going to wear?

Louis almost stabs himself in the eye with the blasted pencil in his haste to reach his phone. When he finally locates it, he scrolls through his contact list like mad. Daisy, Danielle, Deo, Ed. Louis stabs at the name when he finally finds who he's looking for, typing in near-hysterics.

' _Babe love my sweet darling dearest El ... HELP!!!!!!_ '

' _You know only Niall's allowed to call me dearest but I'll let it slide. What do you need, Lou?_ '

Louis and Eleanor had been mates since diapers as their mum's, along with Liam's, were old friends. Louis and Liam had actually met Niall through Eleanor. After a few months of what Niall called 'courting' which really consisted of sharing his crisps and making a real effort not to fart when she was present, Niall asked El on a proper date and the two had been together for about a year and half. During that time, Louis and Niall formed a real kinship and, after talking it over with Liam, who wasn't Niall's biggest fan, Louis asked Niall to move in, figuring someone else chipping in for rent would take a tremendous load off the broke college students' backs. The three became fast friends, best mates really once Liam warmed up to Niall's obnoxious laughter and gave in to his Irish charm.

' _listen here u knob i could give a shit less what ur boy calls u , i am in peril WOMAN !!_ '

' _To what sort of peril are you referring, dingbat?_ '

' _the wardrobe sort .. party 2morow and ive nothing :(_ '

' _Topshop. 20 mins. xx_ '

And it was that easy. Sometimes Louis really loves his friends.

•••

"I honestly don't know why you're so stressed, Lou. You've a million things in your closet and and we both know it." The pair had been at Topshop for a little over an hour and Eleanor was growing restless.

Louis was currently wearing a classic ensemble: suspenders, a striped shirt, red jeans, and a pair of Toms. Sure, it would do but it just wasn't quite right and Louis wouldn't settle for anything less than jaw-dropping.

"Becaaaaause it's my biiiiirthday and it's impoooortant and I wanna look niiiiiiice." Louis stretched all his key points with a whine; he could be insolent when he wanted and it showed.

El rolled her eyes a smidge but stayed patient, well-adjusted to Louis' moods.

"I understand that, sweets, but we've been here for an hour and--oof!"

Louis had quite literally thrown himself onto his best mates lap, one hand strewn over his face as he wailed dramatically. 

"What if I meet the one, Eleanor? What if my soulmate's in attendance? What if the news shows up and I'm on TV? _What if the Queen comes?_ " Louis ended his last question with a mortified shriek, as if the idea of the Queen of England walking regally through his flat to attend his raucous party was a genuine possibility. He's president of the drama club, what can he say?

"Good god, Lou, get off and I'll look, seriously look. And by the way, since when do you believe in soulmates?", she inquires, gently but firming rolling Louis' body off her own and walking determinedly toward the clothing racks.

Louis sits quiet for a moment, her callous question catching him off guard. Louis doesn't tell her that she and Niall's relationship is what made him start believing in soulmates. He certainly doesn't tell her he started thinking seriously on the topic after he saw the way Niall's eyes honest-to-god glittered when he was talking about El's dimples one night. And he was most definitely doesn't tell her about the heavy loneliness that's been sitting on his chest ever since, making it hard to breathe correctly, especially around couples. Nope, Louis keeps his mouth shut on his serious answers, opting to play it off with a joke instead like he usually does when things get too serious.

"Honey, I've believed in soulmates ever since I first laid eyes on Simon Cowell. Have you seen those sideburns? And that jawline? Mhmm. Daddy."

Eleanor gagged as Louis joined her at the racks but quickly recovered and the two soon fell into a groove, carefully inspecting each garment the other held up, all talk of soulmates forgotten.

○○○

Harry loves his mum but he hates this house. He hates his stupid fucking stepdad and he hates his stupid fucking stepbrother and stepsister- twin, sorry, _twin_ stepbrother and stepsister. He hates being ordered around to do fucking everything like a goddamn maid and he really fucking hates—

"Harry, love, can you come here a moment?"

Anne's soft voice jars Harry out of his thoughts, beckoning him gently. Hearing her voice always seems to calm him down because he hears it so rarely these days. Anne's almost always away on some business trip or other, leaving Harry at home with the step monster, unaware of the happenings that take place in her absence.

Harry and Anne had always been close and nothing could change that, distance be damned. They used to call themselves the Fantastic Four when Des and Gemma were still around. However Des passed when Harry was seven and Gemma was never quite right after that. She split the first chance she got, leaving Harry with a sad smile as she departed to Bristol. The four of them used to visit Bristol quite often, usually at Des' suggestion. He'd make jokes and tease his young kids as they drove, Anne looking on with a fond smile.

Harry specifically remembered one such occasion when Des coined the nickname Gemma Bean for the girl, drawing inspiration from her lanky arms and string-bean blonde hair. Gemma cackled with laughter and chased her father along the sandy dunes, making memories she didn't know she'd need to cherish so soon.

She never admitted it outright, but Harry's sure those family trips to the quaint beach town were the reason Gemma chose a uni there; she saw it as a way to feel closer to her father. It hurt Harry a bit knowing he wasn't a good enough reason to stay but he understands. In the time she's been gone, almost two years, Gemma's seemed happier, lighter, and Harry's thankful.

After much huffing, Harry finally lifts himself off his bed where he's been flopped for the past hour, imagining different ways he could infect his step-siblings with lice. What a pleasant sight it'd be, watching Taylor and Nick run around scratching like mad and begging their rich father to take a break from sitting on his fat arse and help them.

With the remnants of a smirk, Harry floats down the stairs to where his mother and ugh Ben are seated in the living.

Benjamin "Call me Ben" Winston was intolerable. He and Anne had met at some conference and hit it off immediately. Harry did have to admit, when he first met Ben, the bloke was charming. Endearing, even. But his demeanor changed completely when he and Anne made it official and she started spending more time away, trusting Ben to look after her baby boy. Poor woman, she trusted so implicitly. 

Ben wasn't abusive, no, at least not physically. He never hit Harry but sometimes his tone implied that he wanted to. Ben screamed orders at the young boy day in and day out, summoning him whenever he pleased. Harry waited on Ben hand and foot, and when the twins moved in, he became their personal butler, too. Harry cooked and cleaned and served and waited, doing anything the trio asked because they seemed to make Anne happy. Harry figured she was just lonely, despite his company, and liked having a full house again. So Harry went along and never so much said a word against Ben, not even after the time Ben found a stain on one of the teacups and thus made Harry empty all the cupboards and wash every dish they owned.

 _If mum's happy, then it's worth it,_ he figured. 

"Yes, mum?" Harry asks when he reaches her, voice sugary sweet. He just barely keeps from gagging when he notices Ben's hand on his mum's leg.

"What's this I hear about a party tomorrow, sweetheart?" Anne's smiling but Ben looks annoyed, the same expression he always wears when Anne shows any affection towards Harry.

Harry pays him no mind, though, too focused on his mum's question, wondering who in the blazes told her about the party whenㅡ

"Nick and Taylor said you were quite chuffed about this little get together so I figured I'd tell your mum here, too. Get us all on the same page." Ben looked absolutely vile as he grinned at Harry, totally playing him.

He, like Harry, knew Anne wasn't very comfortable with parties and since she was leaving for the weekend, getting her to say yes would be even trickier. Of course, Harry hadn't really planned on asking. His mum wouldn't be home and Ben usually made himself scarce on the weekend after giving Harry a list of chores to complete. The twins also seemed to disappear, likely spending their time entertaining their expensive friends, laughing over escargot and champagne. 

Hold on, how did they even know? Harry thinks back over the course of the day trying to figure when they would've seen him and it dawns on him that Zayn had been over earlier and Nick had been in his bedroom next to Harry's all the while. In any case, the rat must've heard Harry and Zayn discussing party details and decided to make Harry's plans known.

Harry struggles trying to explain and make the party—which was sure to be a rager considering who the guest of honor was—seem more docile. 

"It's um it's really just a birthday party, mum, yeah," It's a lame excuse but the boy's desperate. "A few people, some music, I doubt there'll even be real food." Harry tries to smile but it's forced and colored with discomfort.

Anne brightens a little. Maybe it's not such a lame excuse after all. "A birthday party, hm? And who, may I ask, is it for?"

If Harry's cheeks redden even a little bit when his mum poses the question, well, that's his own damn business. It's not his fault Louis, golden boy if there ever was one, is so fit. If anyone's to blame, it's that blonde lad Louis' always with. Many a day Harry had seen them practicing footie together and clearly, the friendly games they played did wonders for Louis' bum. 

"It's uh this boy in drama in the uh drama club yeah he's actually kinda the president amd uh captain if the footie team and I thought it'd be rude of me not to show and all...", Harry trails off noticing the glint in Anne's eye. 

"Pray tell this boys name, Harry?"

Mum, please. "It's um it's Louis uh Tomlinson yeah Tomlinson."

"TAYLOR! NICK! WHO'S LOUIS TOMLINSON?"

Harry sees red because did Ben _really just?_

Like classically trained poodles, the two elegantly sweep into the room upon hearing their names. Taylor gives her manicured nails a polish on her fur jacket as she sits down, not a single blonde hair out of place, while Nick runs a hand through his own quiff, taking a seat beside her. 

"Yes, father?" They say it in sync, as if that's not fucking weird.

"Who's Louis Tomlinson, my sweets?"

The two share a conspiring look before Taylor speaks up.

"He's one of the most popular boys at our school, father, and also the biggest partier. It's indecent, really." Taylor would look actually disgusted if it wasn't for the mischievous glimmer in her eye.

Nick is quick to put his two-cents in. "Yes, father, he's quite the mongrel and the parties—I mean, I've _heard_ the parties—are rather savage as well."

Harry notices Nick's slip of the tongue and can't help the flare of jealousy that rips through him because when on earth did Nick get to party with Louis?

It's unacceptable and it's all driving Harry mad because the two nasty creatures sitting on his mum's couch are lying. Not a single word out of their mouths has been factual. Yes, it's true Louis did party, but for god's sake, it was university and the boy's best friend was an event coordinator, of fucking course he partied!

Harry wants to defend himself but what is there to say when Anne's got that look on her face, the one that spelled, "No no no," on all her features.

"Oh, darling, you know how I feel about parties." The disdain in her tone is a kick to Harry's stomach; he hated when his mother disapproved. "I would let you go, baby, but from the sounds of it, this boy is quite the ruffian. And I'm not sure I want you around that type of behavior. I'm sorry, love."

Tears prick the corners of Harry's eyes and he's never felt more alone with every face in the room against him. He expected it from the others but from Anne it's a sharp slap and it stings.

"I have to say I agree with your mum," Ben lets out, as if his opinion fucking matters. "We only want what's best for you, Haz."

And Harry almost snaps, almost lunges at Ben, but then he sees the fond look on Anne's face as she nods at Ben. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes like it used to when she looked at Des but it’s a smile all the same.

And  
he  
just  
can't  
do it.

So instead he just corrects Ben by saying, "It's Harry," and curtly walks back to his room, sending a quick text to Zayn that just says, "Partys off .x", before flopping down on his bed and continuing to hate fucking everything.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for even taking the time out to read this, it's been in my head for such a long time now. please comment below if you have any questions or suggestions and leave kudos if you liked it so far thank you !! xx


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